


I Want To Be With You

by SolitaireCoffee



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: (i jUST realized i could use that tag and isn't that Rad), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Attempt at Humor, Awkward Romance, Burr is a mess, Dark Comedy, Dialogue Heavy, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Humor, Forgiveness, Hamilton is a dick, Happy Ending, He is but not the kinda Alexander thinks, Inappropiate Use of Parenthesis, Inappropriate Humor, Lin-Manuel Miranda is accused of being an angel, Love/Hate, M/M, Not Good Meta Humor But Hey At Least I Tried, Past-Life Memories, Redemption, confusing use of pronouns, i added more description because idkkkkk, i don't really know how else to tag this mess, i reread it and it is So Vague, sorry for that, this wasn't supposed to be a Burr-Centered fic but it kinda is because i'm weak, yeah guys i know i use them way too much but i'm not gonna stop soon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 13:02:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10617441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolitaireCoffee/pseuds/SolitaireCoffee
Summary: “I don’t see why not. We could have been born again and remember but not having any mean to know each other because we’re in different bodies. Damn, we could have been born again without memories and work with each other without knowing. But we remember and we’re together. That means we belong with each other. The reason is not important.”“The reason is not important.”“The reason is not important,” Alexander repeated, the voice of a man sure of his words.—Burr and Ham reborn and find each other. Alex is pissed by the shooting. They work things out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language. 
> 
> me: dialogue heavy works have more character.  
> also me: you're just a lazy bitch.  
> me: rude. 
> 
> Lame jokes ahead folks, I hope you are ready, because trust me, they *are* lame. 
> 
> (Merge of historical/musical Burr and Ham? Sort of. Like, they're "the" historical versions of this verse, but with facts about the musical because the musical is cooler and wikipedia only helps me so much) (also because founding fathers across the globe tend to be shitty anyway) (because of old principles and stuff) (Values Dissonance is real kids).

Winter was around, messy and unforgiving, but inside of a library everything was peaceful and quiet. Most people were busy reading or studying or not-studying or reading because they were busy complaining about the weather, but two of them were too busy staring at each other to notice the world around them.

Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr found the other by mistake; they were looking for the same book and when their hands bumped they looked at each other to say sorry, and that’s when it hit them.

They knew each other. From a long long time ago.

Memories flooded their brains, and even when they were confused, Hamilton’s first response was to throw a fist at his face.

Burr didn’t complain, and while Alexander was trying to breathe again, thinking on whether he should punch Burr again or let it be, someone came in to help Aaron, to stop the fight. The librarian glared at him, taking Aaron with her and trying to help him with his bloody nose.

Bloody nose that he deserved.

Alexander walked along with them, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Do you guys know each other? Why were you fighting?” the librarian asked, when the young man didn’t just disappear after she rescued the injured young man.

“...Old grudge.”

“Well, that’s not right, saving grudges isn't a good thing to do.”

Hamilton laughed bitterly.

* * *

 

 “Alexander, stop that,” Burr said, not taking his eyes off the book he was trying to read, but couldn’t, because Hamilton was sitting at the same table with his arms crossed and if looks could kill he would be dead already.

“Stop what? Aaron Burr, sir?”

“That’s not my name.”

“Mine isn’t Alexander either.”

They glared at each other.

“Stop doing that. I’m trying to study. May I suggest that you address whatever problem you have with me or else go away”

“My problem is that you killed me, you fucking idiot.”

“I didn’t kill you. Or are you death? Am I speaking with a ghost?”

“Very funny.”

“I have a reputation of being charming.”

“Well, that is certainly new.”

“Perhaps it is.”

Alexander’s eyes didn’t soften, but he did uncrossed his arms.

“This is weird.”

“It is indeed.”

“... Jesus Burr, stop doing that.”

“What am I doing now?”

“That! Behaving like this, with your shoulders all down… You’re acting like the victim. Like, yeah, I punched you but goddamit, you _shot_ me.”

“I… I didn’t shot you. I’m a just a modern college student. Definitely not alive when Alexander Hamilton was around destroying people’s nerves.”

“You can’t excuse you with that.”

“Not excuse me. I just... don’t remember really well. I’m forgetting parts of my current life because of those memories, and those memories aren’t complete either… And… is it fair that I get to be blamed for something I never remembered until now?”

“Is it fair that I got shot?”

“You know, you were far more treatable back in 1776, do you remember the advice I gave you?”

“I thought _he_ wasn’t _you_.”

Aaron glared at him, but didn’t answer.

“Your ass is going to talk less and smile more,” Alex muttered. Aaron had the feeling he would’ve screamed it if it weren’t because the librarian was walking close to them, definitely weary for the easy-to-read tension between them.

However, Burr was quite happy that Hamilton remembered his advice.

Realizing that was awful, because it meant that he was, in reality, Aaron Burr.

The fool that shoot Alexander Hamilton.

 _What the_ **_fuck_ ** _?_

* * *

 

They keep meeting.

They never realized they were in the same college because _of course they were in the same college_ and while they never saw each other until now, because _of course they never saw each other until now_ , now they were bumping all the time.

In a library, in a café, in a concert, in between classes, in a party.

They had a silence agreement. You won’t speak to me if I don’t speak to you.

It evolved to a few sarcastic comments,

(Well, at least you didn’t graduate in two years this time, because you were too much of an insufferable bitch back then) (Says the guy who was ready to jump on my cock for a piece of advice)

(Your face screams all-nighter. It’s not 1790 anymore, Hamilton) (It’s okay, I met you in this timeline. Which means that before my health kills me, you’ll shoot me)

but they tried to keep interactions to the minimum.

Specially because their friends didn’t understand why they called each other like that.

(It’s just a joke between us)

(I call him Alexander because it just fits his face, don’t you see he’s totally an Alexander?)

Their friends think is a form of flirting. Frankly, they don’t know anymore.

(I don’t know. His eyes are indeed gorgeous, but he never stops talking.)

(Perhaps we are. Doesn’t mean I hate him less though.)

But it is soothing. In a way. They have no one to talk about it ((Who would believe it?)) and they’re too stubborn to talk it with each other, but it’s eating them alive. Their small interactions help.

Knowing that the memories, the pain, was real, that they shared it with someone else, helped immensely. Nightmares about their old lives creep, and they never leave. The war, how awful it was to feel your life at stakes for the sake of the country. The politics, how awful it was to feel your life belonging to the public for the sake of the country.

And also,

they started to see their surroundings in new ways. They lived normally before, being thankful of the good and critic of the bad, as everyone does; but now, when they see America’s state, they want to tear a bit.

Their nation is great.

Their nation is a mess.

* * *

 

They finally talk with each other.

Well, not really, more like, they found again at a café and they look at each other and there is longing in their eyes and they sigh and order a coffee and sit in the same table and stare at each other a bit more.

They like their new features.

It’s more American now.

“So… how do you prefer to be called?” Alexander said, already knowing the answer.

“Like my real fucking name. But it doesn’t matter, because ever since I remembered, I can only answer at _Aaron_. I have to be extra-aware of _my_ name, because if I’m not I don’t fucking answer to it. It fucking sucks. I hate it.”

Alexander giggles and Aaron glares at him.

Alexander raises his hands. “It’s funny to watch you curse, Burr.”

“Do you even know what year is it? Of course I curse.”

“ _Do you even know what year is it? Of course I curse_. I curse _you_ , you dumb fuck.”

“Alexander, please.”

Alexander’s breath hitched.

“... I like that. Keep calling me that. No one calls me that way.”

Alex eyes were shiny, and his words enticing, and Aaron was weak. 

* * *

 

They’re against it, it mustn’t be right to do this with each other, but they won’t stop soon.

They still haven't talked.

Their mouths are too busy to talk.

It is hard to stop kissing Alexander when he can’t even think when he is kissing Alexander. He is wild, passionate, intense how he is and has always been and will always be with everything he does in his life. It’s suffocating and so so good and he is drowning and drowning and drowning-

“I still hate you for shooting me.”

Burr wanted to feel shame for coming in his pants at that whisper. He doesn't manage it. 

* * *

 

“Okay, I need to ask you. Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why you shoot me? We were friends, Burr. I was… so sure that you wouldn’t shot me. I didn't intent to shot you.”

“Contemptible, if true. **”**

Alexander glared at him. Burr snickered.

“You’re still mad because I didn’t apologize?”

“Take your guess.”

“I don’t need to take a guess, thanks.”

They glared at each other, holding the sheets higher to their chests because, suddenly, speaking about this while naked felt wrong.

“Yeah well, we did shitty things. But I need to know. Why you shot me? I mean, I know _why_ you shot me, but in the moment we were there, face to face..."

Hamilton looked around and the fixated his stone serious eyes on him. "How you brought yourself to kill me?”

“...” Burr sighed, “Honestly? You had a marksman ability. I was a terrible shot. Willing to take _that_ guess?”

Hamilton looked at him with a painful expression.

“You wanted to die.” He leaned towards him.

Burr shrugged. “I’m not sure. But I felt… so angry. I was so angry, at you, but also at myself. I just wanted you to apologize.”

Alexander let air he didn’t know he was holding, and hid his face on Aaron’s neck.

Burr pretended not to realize the tears running on Hamilton’s checks, wetting his naked shoulder.

* * *

 

(He may or may not took that as an apology for Hamilton's slanders against him. But it's just that, he wants to believe Hamilton's crying was significative, dammit, and Burr will take any scrap).  

* * *

 

“I still like you, Burr,” Hamilton said, his hand jerking Aaron’s cock.

“Good to know, Alexander,” Aaron breathed, too focused on the pressure on his cock to care about Alex’s talkative nature.

“Like, I liked you before. That shit you said in public? —Rude, by the way—. True. I did want to jump on your cock, back then. Fuck your talk less, smile more. Boner killer. If it weren’t for that, and the boys, I would’ve been in your bed, you don’t even have a clue.”

Aaron hissed, then swallowed.

“I liked you back then. I like you now. Why is it? You’re insufferable.” Alex travelled down, peppering kisses on all Aaron’s body, until he reached his navel, ignoring his cock and glancing up to him. “But you’re also so sweet. Eh, that must be new. No way it was you before.”

“Hamilton, shut the fuck up.”

“And suck your cock with a smile?” Alexander breathed on his cock, tickling Aaron. He whined, and Alex relished.

What Aaron felt when Alexander finally put his mouth on him could only be described as being swallowed by a hurricane.

* * *

 

They still haven’t really talk about… anything. Words wouldn’t reach, they think, and besides, they know each other so well already.

They feel they know each other.

They want to know each other, more than they did before, but they are also scared, because what good can come from this.

They fiddle with each other picking any new scraps they can get.

“You know—” Alexander gives in, because he is anxious and impatient and Aaron has to open up to him whether he wants it or not.

Burr opens his eyes to see Hamilton’s shiny eyes and messy bed-hair and he knows he is going to give in in anything the man says

”—I wanted to go with literature before. But now that isn’t really an option, right?”

Aaron doesn’t need to answer, his face says it all.

They both go for law again.

* * *

 

(It was going to be politics, but then, they think, the law degree is going to be more useful, and what can they taught them in politics that they don’t know already?)

* * *

 

It’s almost like,

they know they need to work for their country again.

They just feel it in their bones.

Alexander wanted to jump in it right then, signing up for any group in college that helps people. And he was signed up in a lot of them already. He studied and he studied and he studied and while Burr felt he was exaggerating (Hamilton… we’ve done politics before. We’re going to be fine, it's not like the constitution has changed that much) (You don’t understand, Burr! This is a new world! We have to know it well!) (Alexander! You have _grown-up_ in this new world!) (Still!), he went shoulder-to-shoulder with him, because that’s the natural thing to do.

Because he wanted to help Hamilton in shaping, no, _transforming_ their country, to a better way, maybe. Because he wants to be with Alexander, so much that it hurts. Because the country deserves Alexander’s burning passion. 

* * *

 

They go to see Hamilton: an American Musical.

Aaron buys the tickets. They miss a class and all to travel. They just feel like they need to watch it.

Alexander is curious.

~~Bullshit, he’s practically radiating.~~

This isn’t going to be good for his ego, at all, Burr thought.  

He was right.

* * *

 

“Hamilton, I knew you were egocentric but stop staring your bill.”

Alexander laughed, crinkles in his eyes.

Aaron is mad that Alex is playing with money on top of their bed, but remained quiet.

“It’s not that it’s just… I… I died so young. I wasn't even 50. I could’ve done so much more if I only had time. But, look at this—” He waved the bill. “The history books mention me, I have my legacy. I even have a musical on my name! And isn’t that-”

Hamilton cut himself with a laugh, happy tears in the corner of his eyes.

Burr smiled back, happy for Hamilton (and already planning how to deal with Hamilton’s ego and his sappiness from now on. Hamilton will never shut up by now) but after a moment he went completely serious, averting his eyes from Alexander’s deep stare.

“What's the matter?”

“Nothing, it’s just—” he laughed bitterly. “I’m the damn fool that shot you. The reason you didn’t have any more time. Also, my political career went to shit after that—”

“Whose fault is that?”

Aaron glared at him.

“I… died alone. Everyone who loved me died. And I feel that all that waiting-”

“Wait for it, wait for it,” Alex sang, smirking.

Aaron rolled his eyes.

“The musical wrote me more sad for your dead that I actually was. I didn't care,” Burr said.

“That’s what you told yourself so you could sleep at night? How ruthless,” he says serious, but there’s amusement in his tone.

"It's one hundred percent true. Why I regret the most is the dead of my career. You be damned."

Alexander snorted, and Burr sighed.

“It’s… weird, remembering this much angriness for something that happened such a long time ago. Angry, at you, at myself. So much pain.”

Hamilton tried to understand all of Burr’s words, because the man was finally opening up and goddammit, he shouldn’t feel this nervous, he knows Burr, knows Aaron so well after all this time, but he feels so nervous his stomach could jump out of his body.

Burr inhaled. “I don’t understand why I am here with you. Enjoying the future we, you helped to build, enjoying your company. Not sure if I am worthy of your company, after all is said and done. I don’t understand why you are here with me. But I assume that you’re happy, and if it makes you happy, I am okay with it.”

Speaking of sappy.

Burr didn’t know what to expect of what it felt like a love confession only to be find in the popular romcom of the moment, his heart was pounding in his throat, waiting for Hamilton’s response, if he was going to provide any.

Alexander eyes were shiny from the tears, but aside of that, his expression was unreadable, and Aaron was scared of the future of their relationship.

Alexander giggled. “Do you think we reincarnated or that we like, stole the bodies of two innocent men who were destined for each other as well?”

Aaron’s brain backflipped in an attempt to understand Alexander’s words, but failed.

“What?”

“It’s just… It’s weird. We never use our... old? previous? they’re actually posterior, names now. We don’t feel it correct. Maybe because they weren’t _our_ names? But then, they were just like us. Or we're just always like us? Orphans, smart, I knew your name before knowing you and admired you, your grades are pretty great. But, did we really live this present life? We remember it, but still. It’s strange, the way I didn’t remember being Alexander Hamilton until I saw you,”

“What if our souls were just wandering together, searching for hosts? And on the other hand, if we did reincarnate and we are Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr but also those kids, why does it feels so weird? Why not remembering before? Weird.”

Alex looked at Aaron’s confused face.

“Oh, am I talkin’ too loud? Sometimes I get over excited, shoot off at the mouth,” he said, grinning.

Aaron rolled his eyes. He had to thought for a moment. He licked his lips, collecting his thoughts for a proper response.

“I think we are them, and _them._ And we are us. After all, we were pretty hypocrite back then. Slave-owner abolitionists and all that. The reason why our color skin, for example, is not a problem for us it’s because it is _our_ color of skin. Not a borrowed one. And besides, do you really think you would have liked “Hamilton” if you were to see it in the endings of the XVIII century?”

“Eh, probably not the music or some parts of the re-telling, but it does has my face and I am, as you have praised it, egotistic. I'm more popular than ever. I think I would like it either way.”

Aaron snorted.

“Another thing...” Aaron felt he was going to regret sharing this, but who the fuck cared. Not him. “I was… obsessed with you when I was a kid.”

“Oh really?” Alexander raised an eyebrow, his eyelashes fluttering, and Burr wanted to die. But he was being serious and opening his soul, and goddamn Hamilton was not going to ruin this for him.

“Yeah, I remember vividly  being interest for you in school. Your history. Your legacy. All that you and your wife did. The Burr-Hamilton duel. Even when other kids were interested in more prominent figures like Washington or Roosevelt—”

“Hey! I’m prominent! _Does Washington has a musical?_ ”

“I’m not sure, but if you have one, he probably has three.”

“Goddammit.”

Aaron smiled at Alexander, love shining in his lips.

“What I’m trying to say is. I’m the dude that shoot you back then, and also a black kid whom he may have protected for political gain but not sure if he ever wanted to be. Probably not even that, for the queer part and stuff.”

Alex stared at him. “Please, you were queer back then too.”

“Irrelevant, I may have even disliked me.”

“Well…” Hamilton looked at the roof, thinking, “I think you’re right. Haven’t thought about it that way. Though you wouldn’t have _disliked_ you, because you were opinionless, like, historical Aaron Burr taking a stance? Shock.”

“Here we go again, I wasn’t _opinionless_ ”

“What do you want Burr, what do you want Burr, if you stand for nothing Burr what would you fall for?!”

Aaron had a lot of things to quip, but in the end decided to go for Hamilton’s head.

“The clearest proof that we _are_ the kids of this new life and we’ve been learning through it, is your lack of classism.”

“Well, hard to be classist when you eat cup ramen every day. Let’s leave it to when I have money again. Jesus, why college is so expensive in this era. Like I understand what is like to want a lot of money but goddamn, enough is enough.” He sat up in the bed, pulling him by his shoulder. “Burr, Burr, I know why we were reborn. To fix this country. Like, this is an injustice!! Or we should like, try to see if time-travelling is possible!!!”

Aaron knew Alex is only half-joking (he wanted to help the country, he doesn’t believe in time-travelling) but he felt he needed to add, “Maybe… we shouldn’t ask that kind of stuff, since we really don’t know how all of this works.”

“You have a point. I guess we’ll just have to write like we’re running out of time.”

“Sweet jesus, will you ever restrain yourself?”

“Not throwing away my shoot, baby.”

* * *

 

Aaron wanted to point that he did, in fact, throw away his shot once.

But he did realize when Alexander changed the topic from their relationship to their situation, and he did so because he didn’t want to talk about them.

Aaron is willing to wait for Hamilton.  

* * *

 

“America is so different now. Have you thought about that?”

“More like it’s recognizing the diversity it always had.”

Hamilton nodded, watching New York from a rooftop. Aaron was trying to follow his eyes, but Hamilton wasn’t looking anything specific.

He was just trying to imprime New York’s view in his brain.

“I think is cool how we reborn just like the play’s original cast, it’s like destiny or something. Now there is a new cast but like, what the fuck? Is that Lin-Manuel Miranda an angel or shit? Did  _he_ do this to us? What kind of accuracy.”

“I don’t think Lin-Manuel Miranda has nothing to do with the curse of me having to bear again your non-stop ranting, my melanin levels be put aside.”

“Eh, you can always shoot me if I bother you too much.”

Aaron's lip tightened, and Alex thought that maybe it was time to open up again.

You know, because their relationship couldn’t keep going on a “I know you because we were kinda-friends two hundred years ago” basis. Not if he wanted this to be long-term anyway.

“.... Burr… You know I forgive you, right?”

Aaron wanted to say that yes, he knew, that he never doubted it; but the truth is that he was never sure, he has always been at the expectative, of Hamilton leaving, of Hamilton trying to revenge, and when he thought about that, when he thought about that…

But Alexander would never do something like that.

Burr nodded.

He tried for Alex not to see his teary eyes.

But Hamilton knew. 

* * *

 

"I just, won’t ever stop doing shooting jokes. Ever. Never in my life. I want you to be aware of that."

"Yeah, I figured out."

* * *

 

Hamilton felt that he should’ve have said much, much more, Aaron said more things to him and he is the one who supposedly rants his heart out.

But something that living twice teach you is that sometimes, less is indeed more.

He forgives Burr, and that’s all that matter.

* * *

 

“I’m still curious over why us. Why us. Why not, I don’t know, Washington?”

“How do you know that Obama isn’t Washington, for starters?”

Alex giggled. “Shit, haven’t thought about that.”

“How do we know Obama isn’t _Angelica,_ for all we know, this thing may not care for sex or gender.”

“Nah, Angelibama would have instated world peace by now.”

It was Aaron’s turn to laugh.

“But,” Alexander keeps going, “Maybe it’s because we haven’t seen them? Maybe there are other of us around? Like Angelica! Dear god, Eliza! Laurens!”

Aaron’s mood darkened at hearing that name, but he managed to save it from himself. Hamilton is too excited to realize.

“We should look for them!”

* * *

 

They find the Schuyler sisters in a college party, held on winter.

It is indeed them, they’re sure, (you see??? Lin-Manuel Miranda _knows_ something. They look identical) (Alex, chill, he’s just a talented man who has the unluck of having a face similar to yours) (You fucking love my face), but they don’t seem to remember.

“Why they don’t remember?! It’s not fair!” Alexander whined.

“Well…”

“What?”

“Do you really want Eliza to _remember_?”

Alex reconsidered everything, and Aaon is not sure what conclusion he reached, but he put a smile and flirted with Eliza again, this time trying to not call her Eliza.

Eliza’s sweet as always, and she bought the “You just look the same to her, she’s an old friend that sadly isn't in my life anymore! I’m sorry to keep messing up your name” and they exchange numbers.

Aaron sulked in a corner of the party, and found Angelica doing the same.

Some things never change. 

* * *

 

“Aaron… ugh, don’t be this way. Look, have a Me.”

Aaron laughed at the sight of the ten dollars bill. “What the _fuck_?”

“I don’t know, I thought it would make you laugh, and it worked it,” Alexander’s awful grin improved his mood greatly, and he hates how weak he is at Alexander’s playful eyes. “Buy a coffee or something. Stop sulking. You’ve been sulking for days. _I’m_ the one who sulks, stop stealing my spotlight. What’s the matter?”

Aaron sighs.

“Just… you’ve been texting Eliza, right?”

Burr felt stupid. Why was he bothered by that? Hamilton and him were nothing, not really, they just had a lot of plans for the future because they have a lot of information about the nation's very same foundations, and they think that that will be useful in any plan to improve their country.

And while in this time is more accepted, politics are hard when you’re queer. Alexander got the chance to be with a woman, a woman he knows is perfect for him.

It would be stupid to not be with her.

Alexander furrows his eyebrows.

“Shit. We really need to talk more often. You preach “talk less, smile more” but silence only leads to misunderstandings.”

“I don’t preach that anymore.”

“You said tomato, _you_ say tomahto. Like, you don’t say it _now_ , but you still live through life with that.”

“Just spill it out, Hamilton.”

“I won’t leave you, okay. We’re… in this together. I like you, I really like you. We’re… ugh, ‘boyfriends’. So stop fucking sulking because you’re being a fucking idiot. Man up.” Alexander ended up slurring the last part, a blush in his face, and walks away with his hands fisted at each side of his body.

Aaron smiled.

* * *

 

It was obvious, Aaron thought in their ascent to power.

Alex was born again because he was meant to do great things again. Because he lacked time before and now he is in a different one; where his goals are different but the intent is the same, their country.

But he, well…

Like in his other life, Alex rising is non-stop, and while Burr didn't think he was falling behind, he has to work harder to avoid it. Because it was so easy for Alexander to leave him behind. 

He didn’t understand why he is here, and it upset him. 

* * *

 

“I’m sure we’re here for you.”

“Burr, don’t say that…”

“Don’t say nothing against it. It’s true. But why me?”

Alex bit Aaron’s naked shoulder, nuzzling into it, the heat of Aaron’s body almost lulling him.

“Why the fuck would I know?”

“... Maybe I’m the thing you need? To keep going? I don’t know, some shit like that, we need each other?”

Hamilton was completely uninterested with the debate, but when Burr mentioned that, he stood up.

“If it’s about _need_ , it would have definitely been Eliza.”

Aaron grunted, because the idea of being need by Alexander was appealing to him and damn, couldn’t Alexander just indulge him in one. After all they’ve been through.

“I think… it is because we bring the best out of each other. You… you bring the best out of me. I _want_ you to bring the best out of me. You’re exasperating and I hate you, but you’re smart and make me think. And I do the same.”

“Intellectual reciprocity? That’s the reason?”

“I don’t see why not. We could have been born again and remember but not having any mean to know each other because we’re in different bodies. Damn, we could have been born again without memories and work with each other without knowing. But we remember and we’re together. That means we belong with each other. The reason is not important.”

“The reason is not important.”

“The reason is not important,” Alexander repeated, the voice of a man sure of his words. 

* * *

 

“You’re not here for me, Aaron, you’re here for yourself. Look at where we are, look at where we started.”

_You’re here for yourself._

And Burr felt it.

The reason is important. 

* * *

 

Because, back then, when it seemed he only wanted power and most of his movements were personal and made everyone else distrust him, he did care for his country. Deeply. And he thought that maybe, if he could bring himself to care again, with less selfishness, with less individuality, then maybe he can bring good to everyone.

Equality, the equality they fought for. For women, for people of color; for queer people, this time.

Power is not important to him, personally; it’s just a tool to help the others.

And he can now indulge in this feeling because is genuine and real.

He _wanted_ to hold onto that feeling.

And onto Alexander, because Alexander is important. Personally.

He wants to be with Alexander. 

* * *

 

Talking doesn’t come anymore easy. But they manage.

Mostly because they’re tired of assuming things of the other.

 _They,_ actually means Alexander, but still.

Aaron could only comply.

* * *

 

They weren’t searching it but it feels like redemption; helping the world, together, instead of destroying the chances of their valuable help, like they did before, Burr with his political career destroyed and Hamilton with a bullet in his chest.

(Did I ever tell you that after you died I told someone “Hamilton, my friend, whom I shot”) (Burr, I know you didn’t tell that to _someone_ , you tell that to several people, and I know it because I’ve read every biography of all of us. I didn’t want to bring post-mortem me stories because man… you were a fucking mess).

(Aaron brought those stories by himself, because they were really funny and he was indeed a mess, a mess for not having Hamilton around, and the blush on Alexander’s face when he said so was worth it. Alexander’s bullying be dammed).  

* * *

 

It’s weird being a politician and not recognizing your name in the titulars. Alexander blamed Aaron.

“It’s your fault! Call me for my actual name!”

“But you asked me to call you Alexander!”

“Doesn’t matter!”

(They don’t stop calling each other Aaron and Alexander, but they cut off the Burr and Hamilton. They can convince everyone it’s a joke between them, but people around them are definitely not happy that they compare their relationship to a pair of men who engaged in a duel for political reasons.)

(If they knew.)

(They can at least agree it is distasteful to call each other that way) 

* * *

 

In the end, they can thank the gods (Lin-Manuel Miranda, he is the one who did this to us, Aaron!) (Alexander, please) for putting them together.

They feel so joyful and so useful and so good.

“I feel so happy I could even, you know, gunshot around.”

“Alexander... Talk less.”  

* * *

 

"I kinda love you."

"I don't know, I definitely don't want to shot you anymore, but _love_? Sounds aggressive."

Alexander kissed Aaron, and all was well and fine. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what the fuck is this. 
> 
> I wanted to get political????? Probably because I live in Venezuela and my people is starving, he. But then I closed a bunch of wikipedia pages and decided to keep all as vague and universal as I could, because I'm not american and writing about transforming one's country should belong to one, and it's kind of rude for me to do it. (I don't think I over-stepped any line by calling the country a mess? Because I think we all criticize our countries and want them to improve. But if I did, I apologize). 
> 
> The vagueness about what they did when they go into politics was indeed me being lazy tho, but I just couldn't choose in what spots to throw them at??? ughhhhhh. What about V.P Hamilton? XD
> 
> I feel the scene where they talk about the reality of their situation (with the bill and the musical) interrupts the flow of the fic. But I couldn't just not add it, because it was actually the first part I wrote. With my own handwriting in paper, because the scene shot me in the middle of the night and if I started to type my bro was going to kill me. So yeah... I fucking love that scene, lmao. 
> 
> Jesus, I'm sorry for making you read this rant. What is wrong with me?
> 
> You can talk to me about anything at tumblr, if you want!: http://theawesomefanatic.tumblr.com/


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